time passes as clouds go over their heads slowly, passing over the sun occasionally. everything is quiet and peaceful, everything almost feels right. two panic-stricken kids now calmly relaxing in the grass, blanketed in unconsciousness and happiness without a worry in the world. the sun shines brightly down on them.
however, this happy, carefree setting crashes down the moment you open your eyes, followed by you jolting up and instinctively cradling your arms with sweaty palms. you’re silently whimpering and sobbing the instant you’re hit with the realization that you’re aware, and you’re very clearly distraught.
the occurrence of nightmares isn’t an uncommon one, but it’s not a fun one. no amount of them can ever stop you from being upset every time. if you’re lucky, you’ll forget them soon after, but life usually isn’t that forgiving towards you. every night it’s a new showcase of sights, a new reason to worry, and a new hole in your heart is formed. the worst ones have a tendency to be put on repeat, reoccurring multiple times but never feeling any less terrifying. they consist of your worst fears, being left behind, being forgotten, having to face old friends and enemies. having to face your problems head on.
in a way, it makes you feel sick. not purely physically, but also mentally. it’s hard for you describe but this feeling manifests itself under your skin in so many different ways it’s hard to believe that you aren’t actually coming down with the flu. you struggle to hold yourself together.
you turn your head to max. you can’t imagine the trouble you’ve caused him thus far. you really do owe him an explanation. you fear you didn’t really start off on the right foot. maybe if you tell him… no matter how uncomfortable it would be to share such information with someone you’ve just met… things can be mended. the two of you can go back to doing what you had been doing before it got all messed up.
you reach out your hand to tap his shoulder, but you pull it back before contact can be made. you really don’t want to wake him up. what if he doesn’t want to be woken up yet ? you’d respect his wishes if you knew what they were. you blink away some of the tears in the corners of your eyes. had they always been there, caused by the nightmare, or had they been fresh from worry ? you wish you knew.
you lay back down on the grass next to max to contemplate your next action. you don’t want him to wake up with worries on his mind ( that is — if he was even worried to begin with ) and to be honest, you’re not too proud of the actions and decisions you make when you’re woken up by someone else. you’re not really all that pleasant when that happens and you’re willing to admit to that. but again, what if he doesn’t want to wake up yet ? you don’t know his life… you don’t know how much he gets. just like he didn’t know your whole deal. you stare at him through the small blades of grass, thinking. he looks so peaceful compared to the panics circulating in your thoughts.
in the end, you decided it’s just better to wake him up. you’ve rehearsed what you’ll say in your mind a thousand times so that this doesn’t go wrong. you take a deep breath in and deep breath out. why are you even still hesitating ? surely he’s not mad at you… is he ? after all, he laid himself beside you instead of wandering off. but then again, where could he have gone ?
you conclude that if he’s mad at you then you deserve it, especially after the fuss and trouble you’ve caused him. you softly touch his shoulder, gently nudging it to wake him.
❛ i — i can explain… explain everything… if you l — let me. if you… if you don’t want me to… that’s fine too. if you want to go… back to sleep, that’s — that’s also okay. i can… wait. ❜ in the midst and rush of your thoughts, you’ve completely forgotten the sobbing mess you’ve been since you woke up. but right now, this isn’t about you, it’s about him.
a faint voice echoed in his mind, one quite unlike the callous others from earlier. while it was certainly welcomed more than the others, it wasn’t necessarily wanted. despite that, it blended harmoniously with his unconscious thoughts, not even slightly disrupting his reverie. he was in a field of flowers, yellow roses to be exact. they used to plant countless of those back in his town. that memory intertwined with fragments of dreamscapes, rides, that floated around in the empty subspace of his unconsciousness, analogous to how he currently felt. free. he was unaware of his existence, still aware of the idea of existence, and waiting in line at an amusement park of memories. a short-lived ride for children that people would ride multiple times just because, even if the thrill of it was short-lived. the now pestering voice that knocked on his dream door was heard again, repeating the same line over and over until—
things were blurry as life and it’s tasks weighed down on him, grounding him back to reality. he slowly opened his eyes, blinked, then blinked again. he looked slightly annoyed. sunlight danced across his face and the lazy breeze that tugged at the grass lightly tickled his features. the silent buzzing of bees nearby and the swaying of flowers coaxed him into enervation. although he floated, how he wished to sink! he looked up at otto, who seemed to have just spoken and waited for a response, then looked towards his feet and took in his surroundings. things were coming back to him, albeit slowly. yes...he had fallen asleep after having a mini-breakdown because he didn’t know what else he could do given the situation. he almost wanted to go back to sleep, to ignore the idea of reality for five more minutes, but he glanced at otto once more and realized that he did not seem to enjoy his sudden slumber. what happened? to put it bluntly, he looked like he was in shambles. the light tried to soothe his features but only accentuated his visibly fear-ridden visage. he noticed the accumulated sweat, the subtle tears, and he finally understood otto’s inquiry. he sat up, comforted by the blades of grass and wildlife surrounding them, then nodded his head.
❝ of course! you, ❞ he paused, still half-asleep. how long had they been knocked out for, anyway? slowly rubbing his eyes, he resumed his sentence with a gentler, rather than energetic, approach. it was harder to formulate coherent enough sentences when just waking up, let alone not using your normal tone...
❝ you can take your time, otto, there’s no rush! you seem a bit troubled, anyway. ❞ max fumbled when thinking about what to do next, but all it could think of was letting otto get whatever was troubling him off his mind. he had just made a new friend and it worried him tremendously to see him constantly suffering. in truth...
❝ I know we just met, but I want to make you happy. ❞ he spoke with both a reassuring and unexpectedly stern tone, while at the same time waiting for otto to explain himself.
romaincrisis
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